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“You were told to stay with the plane.”
“No,” Marilee interjects crisply. “We were told to sleep on the plane. Which is hardly SOP—”
“All right!” Vaughn holds up a silencing hand. “Trudy,” he calls out. “Ring the bell. I want everyone assembled right here, right now. And that includes Mac.” He glares at Elias, who calmly raises a discreet handheld radio to his lips, clicks a button, and murmurs something low and indistinct before frowning and repeating the process.
“Elias to base, Elias to base. Base come in.” His frown deepens. “Elias to base, I repeat—”
“Comm tower is down,” Ronin informs him. “The lead-acid battery has been drained.” Another piercing stare at Charlie.
“Telling you, mate, been sitting here so long, I’ve rooted in place. Just ask Sergeant Smiley.”
Charlie points at stone-faced Elias, who mostly seems confused by the reference.
“He has been under my watch, per Mr. MacManus’s orders,” Elias confirms. “What does it mean that the comm tower is down?”
“There goes our radio signal as well as Wi-Fi,” Ronin supplies.
“Can it be repaired?”
Charlie smiles faintly. Given his alibi, I’m willing to believe he wasn’t the one who tampered with the equipment. But he also doesn’t appear surprised. Because he’s in cahoots with someone else? As in there’s more than one member of this twelve-person camp out to get us?
The screen door slams open; others start to file in, whether drawn by the smell of food or the sound of the bell. One by one they take in the obvious tension, then walk slowly down the side of the dining hall before taking up positions on the perimeter, safely out of the line of fire.
Tannis enters with Emi, both eyeing Charlie with worry. Given his battered face and obviously drawn features, I don’t blame them. The optics of three larger men looming over his seated form don’t help.
“We have backup batteries,” Vaughn directs at Charlie. “In the workshop, right?”
“Right-o.”
“Then where are they, because I didn’t see any,” Ronin accuses. He and Vaughn exchange another concerned glance.
I think I’m starting to get a bead on the situation. Someone—not Charlie—disabled the battery powering the comm tower, effectively cutting the atoll off from accessing the main islands via Wi-Fi, and from communicating with one another via radio. The same person, I’m guessing, also hit the plane. Because the jet has a communications system as well? And the goal is to completely cut us off from civilization?
The sound of a low motor and crunching gravel. MacManus and Lea have arrived with the second bodyguard, Jason, and the personal assistant. MacManus is still wearing rich-man resort wear, but Lea has changed into khaki shorts, a lightweight linen top over a deep-rose tank, and in a nod to practicality, canvas sneakers in a matching shade of dusky red. I’ve never thought to coordinate my tennis shoes with my tops. Now I know.
“What’s going on with the radios?” MacManus demands to know, striding through the door without so much as a backward glance at his entourage.
“Oh, good, you’re here.” Vaughn sounds as droll as MacManus sounds angry.
“Well?”
“Everyone, have a seat. Camp meeting is officially in session.”
“Meeting? What the hell, Vaughn?”
“Excellent. I’ll go first. Frankie, please join me.”
I DO NOT like standing in front of a group. I’m pretty sure I started drinking heavily in high school just to avoid the anxiety of these situations. Knowing my audience doesn’t help. Trudy and Ann appear curious, Tannis and Emi encouraging. Ronin has taken up position next to Aolani, the ultimate power couple of incredible physical beauty, catlike prowess, and impossible-to-read features. Even their cool, assessing gazes match.
Lea, I notice, has taken a seat beside MacManus. Her hands are folded on her lap. His arm is slung loosely around the back of her chair. Not overtly possessive, but close enough to be a reminder to her, if not everyone else in the room, of who is in charge.
Vaughn is better at these things than I am. He goes through the motions of welcoming MacManus and Lea, then introducing the entire entourage to the rest of the camp crew. He mentions that Mac is planning to stay for a bit and had suggested this evening’s feast, even supplying his personal chef for the effort.
A smattering of applause, mostly for politeness’ sake as everyone can tell there’s another shoe still to drop. Chef Kiki scowls in displeasure. She’s probably used to making grown men weep in anticipation of her cooking. Whatever.
My turn.
Vaughn hadn’t consulted me on this impromptu show. Standing in front of MacManus and Lea, I don’t feel like I can point a finger directly at them and say, hey, you did this, and she did that, and now she says that, and you say this, and shame on both of you.
